Two Loves (11 page)

‘I'll be off, then,' she told Ingrid as soon as she'd finished her coffee. ‘I'll be staying one more night with Dora and my father and going back home on Friday. Goodbye, Ben.'

Ingrid took her to the door, tweaking her nipples as she kissed her. ‘I'll be in touch,' she said.

To Rosamund's surprise there seemed not a trace of embarrassment between them.

Chapter Nine

‘I don't think I should have come to London, Dora,' Rosamund said that evening. ‘It's been lovely to see you, but on the whole it seems to have unsettled me.'

‘Good. Being unsettled makes you ready to take risks and live dangerously.'

‘So what should I do?'

‘Phone some publishers about your book, get that sorted out. Try to meet some of them. Discuss finances. Be greedy.'

‘I'm not sure about the book. I can't be hard on Erica, but Molly treated me as family, so I suppose I should take her side.'

‘Balls. Molly's a devious, calculating old woman and you owe her nothing. Someone's going to make a packet out of Anthony's love-life, so why shouldn't it be you? Take a deep breath, pick up the phone and get talking.'

‘I don't know. Anthony seems to have been such a shit, but he was lovely to me and Joss, so how can I judge him? His first wife died when she was only twenty-five, so that excuses him, I suppose, to some extent … He always implied that she was the love of his life and that everything had gone wrong as a result of her death.'

‘Of course he did. If your mother had died of cancer at the age of twenty-five, your father would be thinking of her as the love of
his
life and would blame everything on her death. Henry the Eighth thought Jane Seymour was the love of his life because she died young. Even though he got his doctors to hack her to death to save his child. Men love the young wife excuse.'

‘Erica had to have an abortion. An agonising time, she said.'

‘You know so much, darling. Who else has your knowledge? It's a fascinating story and you'd tell it with love and sympathy. Why leave it to some journalist who'll turn it into something really sordid? Molly will certainly get someone to write it; she's not going to let Erica have the last word. And think of the money you'd make. It might even be turned into a film. Wonderful parts for two ageing actresses. Could Paul play Anthony, I wonder? He's never managed to break into films.'

‘And Molly tried to commit suicide – she showed me the scars on her wrists. And the cousin who looks after her now was another of Anthony's lovers.'

‘My God, you'd never have to work again. You could send Joss to a good school and go to Italy to paint, live happy ever after.'

‘I'm not at all happy, Dora.'

‘I know, love. What happened? You seemed so happy a couple of days ago.'

‘I met someone. Someone I used to know. I bumped into him on the underground … but it didn't work out.'

‘Come to live in London. Sell the schoolhouse and get a flat near us. Let me look after you. Do you have to go home tomorrow? Stay a few more days at least.'

‘No, I can't expect Mum to cope with Joss over the weekend. In any case, I'm looking forward to seeing him now.'

Paul joined them from the kitchen where he'd been washing up.

‘Doesn't he look handsome in his apron, Rosamund? Your father, you see, has to dress up for every little job, it's his stage training. He's got a boiler suit for adjusting the radiators and a navy beret for going out to buy wine … Don't you think your daughter should come and live near us, Paul? Instead of burying herself away in the country?'

Paul studied them both for several seconds. ‘I don't know,' he said, as grave as if he'd been asked to settle the fate of nations. ‘If I were writing a book, I think I'd prefer the peace of the countryside.'

‘If I do decide to write a book, I think I'll call it
Anthony Gilchrist, the Man,
making it clear that I don't consider myself able to comment on his poetry, pornographic or otherwise.'

‘No, no, no,' Dora said. ‘I was thinking along the lines of
Wife and Mistress.
That's got a certain…'

‘But even in the first chapter, the first few pages, I'd have to be unkind to so many people. For instance, I'd have to be unkind to Father.'

‘You make some money out of it, kiddo, and be as unkind as you please.'

‘You see I'd have to infer that I was looking for a father-figure, wouldn't I? I don't know whether I was – I don't think so – but it makes some sort of sense, doesn't it? I mean, I was never in love with Anthony, so it might have been something like that – which, of course, suggests that Paul had let me down as a father.'

‘That's fair enough. I had.'

‘No, I never felt that. I always liked it when you were home, but I always understood that you had to go back to London to work. I never felt let down.'

‘But when he married me, darling, you must have felt rather bitter at that time.'

‘But only for Mother's sake. I didn't feel
I
was being badly treated. And during your wedding I made an adjustment and knew he was doing the right thing.'

Dora looked at her rather timidly, waiting for her to continue.

‘You see, it was the first time I'd seen Father look like that, or heard his voice like that. I mean, when he recited that poem to you. That Herrick. That was really moving. Hair-raising, I mean. I measure love from that.'

‘Oh, darling,' Dora said.

‘For God's sake, Rosamund, what a twit you are. I mean, to worry about my feelings when everything's OK between us.'

‘Oh, darling,' Dora said again.

‘For God's sake,' Paul said, ‘don't let's get bogged down. Women are so bloody sentimental.'

‘And then there's Brian. Mother's bound to think I'm belittling him if I tell the truth, which was that he simply didn't want me living with them. Of course he didn't. Why should he have wanted to start married life with a spotty seventeen-year-old stepdaughter, all gloom and hormones.'

‘Don't even mention him,' Dora said. ‘Simply say that your mother married her accountant, Mr Brian Spiers, and settled down very happily with him. People will read between the lines, but let them. That always happens. So who else are you worried about?'

‘Mother won't like any of it. If I'm truthful about our early relationship – Anthony's and mine – she'll be shocked, and I don't suppose there's much point in writing at all unless I am truthful.'

‘What was the truth?' Paul asked. ‘Let's see how shocked I am.'

‘I posed in the nude for him and he paid me. That's how I managed to get to Florence the summer I left Brighton. I told Mother I'd won the money in a competition.'

‘It doesn't seem all that shocking to me,' Dora said. ‘I did far worse when I was a girl.'

‘Oh yes?' Paul muttered. ‘And what, pray, did
you
get up to?'

‘I'm not writing a book, so I'll say nothing further.'

‘What an innocent I was,' Paul said. ‘I actually went to a ball, met Marian and courted her very chastely for two and a half years.'

‘Men are so
decent,
' Dora replied. Then, turning to Rosamund, ‘You needn't mention the money. It's only the relationship between you and Anthony which is important. When did it develop beyond the nude posing?'

‘I'm not sure it did. We were very happy together. I used to make him laugh. I'm not sure how, I don't think I've ever made anyone else laugh, but we always seemed to be laughing and happy. I used to look forward to seeing him every holiday, but I don't think there was much development. I suppose I'd have to admit that if I was being truthful. Our marriage was never consummated. As I told you last night.'

‘And during one holiday you arrived telling him that you were pregnant?'

‘Yes. And wondering about having an abortion. And this part is really about Erica Underhill because she nearly died having an abortion, so that Anthony was absolutely adamant that I wasn't to have one.'

‘You didn't consider marrying the father?'

‘He was married already. But I wouldn't have considered it in any case because I didn't love him. It was an altogether sad little episode. He was unhappy in his marriage and because I was on my own, he assumed that I should be grateful for whatever came my way. He called at my flat, I invited him in for a coffee and then found that he wouldn't take no for an answer.'

‘Are we talking about rape, here?' her father asked.

‘No. Just the seduction of an inexperienced woman by a very experienced man. Just an old-fashioned seduction.'

There was a moment's silence before Rosamund continued. ‘And I'm loath to admit to all that because of Joss. He might be very hurt by it.'

‘Oh Rosie, I don't know how you've been able to keep all this to yourself all this time. You really are a very strong person, isn't she, Paul?'

‘Women are very strong and very devious.'

‘Of course, it would do Joss good to have a father,' Dora continued.

‘But it doesn't have to be his real father does it?' Rosamund said.

‘Does his real father ever visit you?'

‘No.'

‘A man answers your telephone from time to time, Rosamund.'

‘That's Thomas – Thomas Woodison. He and I had an affair for about three years, but he's married too, and it's recently ended because his wife had another baby.'

‘I think I'm going to bed,' Paul said.

‘One careful little affair in the last ten years. Is that enough to turn you against me?'

‘I haven't turned against you, God knows, but I really feel I want to close my eyes now and think of my own small problems. Like lack of work, lack of prospects and lack of money. OK?'

‘There's not much more, anyway. Thomas was a very sweet man, but we weren't desperately in love – at least I don't think so – so neither of us was heartbroken. Just rather sad, I suppose.'

‘When you came in tonight, you looked more than rather sad. But I mustn't pry,' Dora said virtuously.

‘I was crying about someone quite different. I'll tell you about that another time.'

‘Go to bed, Paul. I'm staying up with Rosie. Just another half-hour, love, and another gin.'

‘Good night,' Paul said. ‘I really can't be doing with heartbreak. Not at this time of night.'

They watched him leave the room. He turned at the door shrugging his shoulders; an actor trying to make as much as possible of a small part. Both women smiled indulgently at him.

‘His name's Daniel Hawkins. He was a third-year student when I was in my first year at art school. I think I've loved him ever since those days, though I thought I was over it till I met him again in the underground.'

‘And he's married now?'

‘No. He'd been with someone for years, he said, but she recently went back to America.'

‘So that's promising.'

‘That's what I thought. I was so happy, Dora. But he didn't turn up for our date yesterday. I waited and waited. I thought it meant as much to him as it did to me – but it obviously didn't. And I can't track him down. I phoned every art gallery asking if they had an address for him, but no one had. ‘

‘This is a temporary setback,' Dora said briskly. ‘He'll turn up, I'm sure. Where were you supposed to meet?'

‘Outside the National Gallery.'

‘So he couldn't have phoned to let you know he was unable to make it. He'll get in touch with you.'

‘But how can he? I didn't give him my address or telephone number. He doesn't know where I live.'

‘Darling, there aren't too many Gilchrists around. He'll get hold of you.'

‘I don't think he even knows my name, doesn't even know I was married.'

‘In that case he'll look up Harcourt and he's bound to get us. Did you tell him you were visiting us?'

‘You're not in the directory, Dora. I'd thought of that.'

‘He'll find us. I expect he knows your father's an actor. He'll contact us through Equity.'

‘I don't know. We didn't have time to talk much. He said he'd like to come home with me to share my studio, and then there didn't seem much more to say. Ingrid said he'd found it too much to take and decided to back out.'

‘Rubbish. He'll turn up here within the next week and I'll give him your address. No, I'll drive him straight down to the schoolhouse. It's going to be all right, I promise you.'

‘Oh Dora, I can't be at all optimistic. I want him so much that I can't help fearing the worst.'

Chapter Ten

Rosamund arrived back by four o'clock on Friday and before she'd had time to draw breath, her mother was at the gate.

‘Where's Joss?' she asked, kissing her and trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

‘That's what I've come to tell you, dear.'

‘Oh, God. What?'

‘He's all right. He's fine. He's gone away for the weekend that's all. Just sit down, dear, and try to keep calm.'

‘Mum, I've never been away from him before. I was looking forward to seeing him. Where is he?'

‘We had bad news, dear, on Wednesday night when we were in the George. It's Harry's mother, dear.'

‘Harry's mother? Whatever's the matter with her?'

‘Killed herself, dear. Yes, committed suicide. No one knows why. Took a massive overdose of something. I knew you'd be shocked. You knew her quite well, didn't you? I remember you telling me about the new baby. I suppose it could be something like post-natal depression. Well, I told you how dreadful she looked when I saw her last. So old and drained. Awful, isn't it.'